Copper Snowballs
by Verboten Byacolate
Summary: Grin. Aim. Fire. "Gah! Hinamori! What are you doing!" She fought valiantly to smother her giggles. "... Throwing snow!" When melted feelings show. HitsuHina


_A/N_; Inspired by the slideshow **Melt the snow Hitsuhina** by niicoyapriide on YouTube. Please check it out!  
_Disclaimer_; Kubo owns it all. He's just that cool.

* * *

_- But when things go wrong and winter comes  
You're gonna need to run to someone  
Left alone you'll just freeze up again -_

Maybe he's right. Maybe after a battle, when the blood of friend and foe blend in an acrid-smelling stain is all you can stand... when the majority of those around you are just pleading for it to end (those missing tendons and sanity, poor souls)... when the mood is just depressing enough for a long inner monologue, courtesy of the only one(s) left standing...

Maybe then is not the best time to play in the remainders of Hyorinmaru's blizard attack.

But Kenpachi was letting Yachiru do it just meters away, and so she thought, why not? The blood wouldn't stain black robes, and it was mostly covered in snow besides. Shiro-chan was just too sensitive to the vibe of things. It wouldn't hurt for him to act his age for once.

-- So she thought, packing a ball of snow in her hands while he craned his neck for survivors. Crouching on her knees, Hinamori checked her sphere of cold. No blood. Good.

Grin.

Aim.

Fire.

"Gah!"

Hitsugaya stumbled back in surprise, gazing at her with baffled blue eyes. Hinamori took one look at the pristine white mob, half stuck to a pale cheek, half crumbling to the ground as though it were his composure. She giggled and tried to hold it back. And failed miserably.

"Hinamori! What are you doing?!"

"... Throwing snow!" she answered, falling back on her behind. He reached up and wiped almost dazedly at his wet cheek.

"I noticed," he deadpanned. She sat smiling, packing another ball between her hands while waiting for him to come up with a snarky remark. "_Why_ are you throwing snow?"

Aww. No snark.

"You looked so serious, Hitsugaya-kun. I thought that maybe you'd cheer up if you were-"

"Attacked by freezing cold snow, without warning?" He glared venomlessly. "I don't know what kind of fool would feel cheer from that."

"I would," she said, smiling at him. "Try it. It gives cheer both ways."

She half expected him to refuse. This was no-nonsense Shiro-chan, after all. To her amazement, he didn't turn up his nose. He looked at her questioningly.

"... Try it?"

"Snow." Hinamori pointed to her cheek, staring back at him. "Right here, Hitsugaya-kun."

The captain regarded her quietly for a few more moments, pulling a few faces with expressions she couldn't place, and finally, his back arched as he slowly bent over and scooped a handful of white flakes in his palm.

"You're sure?" he asked, as if doubting the snow. Or himself. Hinamori's smile broadened.

"Yes. Right here."

She pointed again. Slowly, his footsteps crunched through the bloody snow underfoot as he neared her. She wondered briefly why he wasn't balling it up. Lowering her hand, Hinamori placed both on her lap and watched him. His closeness reminded her that he had been staring at her intensely for some time now, and the thought was, for some reason, a little... flustering.

Hitsugaya leaned over, and Hinamori could see her breath mingle with his. "Right... here?" A cold, cold, _cold_ hand filled with frozen crystals met her cheek and she shuddered.

"Oh my!"

The hand remained. She met his eyes again, and found them hard to read. Increasingly hard. Eventually, she gave up, and noticed her own reflection in their teal-esque depths. "Ah... my cheek is numb," she said.

"So are my fingers," came his reply. Said fingers that had, she noticed, begun to slowly explore the expanse of her cold, numb cheek.

She noticed it happening when his thumb accidentally brushed her bottom lip. The icyness of the digit (_because it couldn't have been the mere sensation of Shiro-chan touching her lip. No. Of course not_.) shot a number of shivers down her spine. Perhaps cold was a fetish of his, because she couldn't think of another reason why he would suddenly pitch forward and catch her mouth with his.

Hinamori Momo had never expected her first kiss to be so chilly. (But somehow, she was sure it was to his immense liking.) It was odd, though. When he pulled back to look at her once more, even in the snow with her knees soaked and freezing; even with the melting cold from his hand/her cheek dripping down her neck and into her robes; even though his lips were as cold as his hands, his eyes perhaps even more so...

She was still amazingly, frighteningly hot.

He could reprimand her all he wanted later (and probably would, once she had changed and was wrapped in a blanket and firmly stuck within Matsumoto's bosom and given hot tea and mittens _and maybe another kiss_) for being "childish" and "silly," but Hinamori knew. She knew Hitsugaya. She knew that he would change his tune if _he_ knew.

_You're so much taller from down here, Shiro-chan._

* * *

_- But you should know  
When it gets too cold  
You're not alone  
I'll melt the snow -_

- fin -

**Lyrics: Melt the Snow, by Shayne Ward.  
What are you talking about? Of course summer is the best time to write about snow!  
... oh, leave me alone, you meanies.  
I kid! Please leave a review for little ol' me. I would dearly appreciate it.  
-Bya**


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